


Sandstorm to Ashes

by yoonjiandhoseokfanclub



Series: 'Sandstorm to ashes' [1]
Category: Min Yoonji - Fandom, bts, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/F, Lesbian Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 07:05:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15286317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoonjiandhoseokfanclub/pseuds/yoonjiandhoseokfanclub
Summary: You've been walking in the desert for almost a week. Following Min yoonji, your father's army general, the Kingdom's champion, in her excursion. You've rarely left the castle and it's luxury so having to deal with the extreme discomfort of the desert is quite literally hell to you. Yoonji is an extremely skilled warrior and an even more respected and decorated war genius. You've had an unneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach since you entered the immensity of the desert. You trust that you'll get home safely but is it ever enough?





	Sandstorm to Ashes

The sun feels like lead pouring on the dried out dunes of the desert. Droplets of sweat are snaking down your back, making you fan yourself and clean your humid forehead using the precious fabric of your white and pink silk dress for the umpteenth time this afternoon. Or is it? You have lost the notion of time.  
The gathering of horses that constitute the caravan is starting to consequently slow down. You deduce it’s due to the unforgivable heat and the lack of rations, even the animals have had it. The water reserve is lacking too and the twenty-ish foot soldiers were burning alive under their blazing armors. You’ve been walking in the arid lands for five days. You and your bodyguard are in the middle, foot soldiers behind you and higher ranking battle men in the front.  
An infantryman falls on the ground near the horse you’re traveling on. Your poor conscience suffers a blow forcing yourself to halt your animal with a harsh yank of your reins. As soon as your horse is mobile, the whole caravan stops too.

‘Soldier, are you hurt?’ Worry makes itself heard in your voice, all the way to the start of the caravan from where the very first horse, an imposing black stallion, mane of ashes and heavy iron hooves, brays commanding attention. The impressive beast gets closer to the scene and your gaze travels from the soldier standing up in a haste who’s fearing an even bigger reprimand and the menacing horse on which she was perched.

‘No Your majesty, pardon me, I just tripped.’ He’s clearly heaving, out of breath, dirty skin mixed with sweat, dust and sand. You pity these men. If it’s this unbearable for you who’s not wearing an armor twice your weight on your back, riding a horse, you can’t imagine how it must feel for the infantrymen who have been walking for so long now.

‘It’s not your fault, everyone is exhausted.’ You turn towards a white haired man who wears a heavy sword, sitting on his red charger at your rib. Like everyone else he’s exhausted, weighty iron armor caging his torso, it’s like he’s begging you with his eyes. You understand him and nod lightly.

‘Let’s have a br-’

‘It’s out of the question.’ The voice roars, coming from the top, impressive silhouette on the death mustang. The embers shine in her eyes when you exchange a look full of presuppose. She cocks an eyebrow when you hold her dark stare.

‘Why not? Everyone is exhausted. It’d be better if we could take a break, for even a few minutes, we’ve been walking for hours!’

‘Oh, have you, your majesty?’ Her voice is laced with sarcasm, vile smirk you hate like this heat.  
You hate it because it makes you feel oh so small.

‘I...I haven’t but... the soldiers are tired.’You hung your head low, voice toning down and body language less belligerent.

She turns on her mustang, hot iron sword of intricate motives, that took countless lives and shining under the sun, sitting on her hip.  
She takes off her helmet, revealing short hair as black as her eyes and probably her soul as well.

‘Minastirite is two days away from here. If we stop now it means that it would take even longer for us to arrive there. We don’t know when a sand tempest could start and slow us down. If we get caught in one we could get lost in this desert and I’m sure that’s not something you want, do you?’

She’s overlooking you, gaze intent on you, her helmet on her other hip. The small army is silent as ever, observing the two women have a ‘battle’ so much more insignificant than the war in preparation.  
Everything she says is true and makes sense. As your father’s Army general, she is respected for her experience and her illustrious battle skill. But right now, her glare trained on you in a way that you hate makes you want to order her to literally get off her high horse.

‘As your Princess, it is my duty to ensure that the soldiers are healthy and arrive home safely.’ your soft voice is less confident.

Yoonji rolls her eyes, scoffing before her tongue comes probing the inside of her cheek in annoyance.

‘Whoever said that?’ She shakes her head lightly, talking softly like she’s addressing a child, stunned by such compassion you are exhibiting. 

‘You don’t have a duty in this mission. My duty... Our duty to all of us is to protect you.’

‘The conditions you’ve been putting the soldiers under are inhuman! They deserve rest!’

Her gaze linger on the soldiers behind you. She’s the embodiment of exasperation.

‘If you want a duty so bad, I’m gonna give you one’ She says gruffly.

‘Pretty simple task, by the way...’ She mumbles, absentmindedly like she’s listing out a shopping list. Her horse makes a sound she chooses to ignores. If he could speak you’re sure he would side with you, hellish appearance, deathly hooves and everything. That horse that scares the living hell out of you.

‘keep your pretty mouth shut. You’re slowing us down and I’ll have to explain the reasons to the King.’ 

You hear your body guard, inhale in shock at the way Yoonji apparently just disrespected you with such nonchalance. If it was somebody else they’d probably have been beheaded on the spot. But she’s the general of your father’s army. The kingdom’s champion. And you’re just a brat in her way. She has to show superiority in front of the soldiers who are watching the ‘altercation’. It’s her way of demanding respect and show the soldiers she doesn't let anyone, not even you, come in between her orders.

Your horse, apparently not liking the way she addresses you, abruptly neighs, standing up on his back legs. The general’s horse, a feet taller than yours, not in the least intimidated, looks down on the animal. You swear you saw it scoff!

‘Whoa, easy now!’ You pull on the reins in a way that makes him calm down, and when all four of his hooves are back in the sand you caress his mane, whispering in his ear.

‘General, I don’t like the way you’re talking to me.’ You simply state just tired at this point, sweat falling in gallons off your forehead and through your dress, in uncomfortable places. Your eyes are trained on the way your hands tremble around the reins. You might be having a stroke.

‘That does me a fat load of-’ She abruptly stops as if just realizing who she was talking to, gritting her teeth, eyes shutting, visibly pissed at the fact you won’t let it go. 

‘Your majesty...’ She starts, the less genuine smile you’ve ever seen her arbor.

‘This matter is none of your concern.’ She dismisses you, turning all the way around on her horse, towards the first soldier who tripped earlier.

‘Get your shit together and back in position.’ Her voice is stern, quiet, but stern. Min Yoonji never needs to raise her voice for her orders to be heard. It’s the soldiers who are always vigilant, because you do not want to miss a Min’s order.

The sun might be omnivore after all because you’re pretty sure he just ate a chunk of your brain.

‘Princess!’ The man who was on his amber horse next to you yells at you, and you don’t know why all you’re able to see is blue, cotton and white rays attacking your retina.

‘Princess, are you okay?’ He’s off his horse in a heart beat, knelt at your side now and when he cradles you in his lap to give you some water you realize you fell off your horse too.

‘Gods… We need to… take a break...’ Is the last thing the soldiers hear from you before you actually pass out.

 

When you wake up, it’s alone inside of a spacious tent. Spacious is an overstatement compared to the luxury you’re used to back in the castle, but considering the fact you haven’t been able to have privacy for the past four days you’ll gladly accept the small tent.

Your head is not hurting you in the least but you still feel a little dizzy for some reason.  
You straighten up in your makeshift bed. Your dress has been removed to only leave on your body the thin white garb that serves of underwear.  
You blush at the idea that someone had to disrobe you because you didn’t travel with any of your servants.  
Your throat is dry and your lips are cracked. No sun rays are entering the pavilion.  
You see a bucket of water set next to where you’re lying and you soak a finger into it, just to check the temperature.  
Rather lukewarm, the ambient climate is too hot for the water to have gotten cold in the time you were asleep. 

You’re wearing a long clothe around your shoulders that arrives at your ankles and you open your tent to observe the exterior. The bivouac is silent, most of the soldiers have to be asleep now. A camp fire is alight and three people are sat around it, seeming to grill some food.

‘Oh, you’re awake.’

Namjoon, your body guard who got to you first when you fell has a bag on one shoulder and his hand is placed on his sword, absentmindedly, always ready, like a habit that’ll never leave him.

‘Yeah, how is everyone.’ Your soft voice rings in his ear and he shrugs, shoulders heavy.

‘They’re resting, trying at least but with this heat… It’s easier said than done.’

‘Do you think we’ll be in Minastirite the day after tomorrow,’ You ask gingerly and he frowns trying not to show you his uncertainty.

‘I hope, Princess.’

‘Y/N… No one’s around, Joon.’ You smile.

He chuckles, giving you the brown leather bag he had on his shoulder.  
You’ve known Namjoon since you were kids, he’s one of your closest friends and swore on his life that he’ll protect the future of the kingdom.

‘There are some clean clothes from your quarters and some food inside.’

‘Thank you. What did Yoonji say?’ You try, gaze training on the tents scattered around yours, not seeing hers from where you are.

‘We’re moving tomorrow at dawn.’

‘So early....’ You almost whine. ‘I hope you can get some rest Namjoon.’

He bows respectfully to you and you hit his shoulder.

‘See you tomorrow.’

‘See you tomorrow Y/N.’

Getting rid of the sweat that was coating your body and changing into your clean clothes prove to be harder than you thought but you still manage.  
Feeling a bit cleaner, you grab some gouli and clean water Namjoon brought you and swallow in two seconds chrono.

Getting out of your personal space again, an hour later, the moon is now visible in the clear sky.  
The camp is silent and you tippy-toe around, toes sinking in the warm sand.  
Your white cotton dress is layered on your body and you’re sure you look like a haunting apparition.  
You look around for the biggest and most luminous tent around. You know she’s the only one awake. The general is probably studying a map or planning tomorrow’s debacle. You sigh thinking about how hard she is not only on other people but also on herself. 

You were right. General Min is sitting in a chair, papers in hand. Eyebrows eternally frowning she looks pissed but also worried.  
When you let your presence known she’s taken aback. First by the fact that you could sneak up on her, which was the proof she was really tired and second, your appearance. Your long flowy dress is her favorite even though she’ll never tell you. She loves the way your skin contrast with the ivory of the garment.

Impassible still, as a war genius she can’t let you have the upper hand.

‘There is this thing called privacy. I assumed a young lady of your rank would know about that, but it seems other people don’t have this pr-’

‘I’ve been trying to get your attention all day. I knew you weren’t going to let me in anyway.’ You sulk, folding your arms on your chest.

‘And where the hell do you even knock on a tent?’ You try to make sense even though you’re a lost cause.

She doesn’t say anything, just stares at you before asking you if you’re feeling better.

‘I almost died because of you, and your stubbornness.’ You shrug, ironically. 

But she’s not even listening to you, her attention is back on her previous activity, ink running on paper.

‘… You don’t care anyway so why would you ask?’ You mumble, getting closer to where she’s seating. 

Her room is dimly lit, thick white candles alight around her. Surprisingly it’s not as hot as the inside of your bivouac which is due to the fact that temperature drops at night even in the desert but you put it on Min Yoonji’s cold, icing gaze. Cruelty and bitterness drip down her eyes and mouth like an eternity fountain, but you know her differently. You know another side to the woman. A side that’s warm like the sun in spring and soft like the cotton candy your father would bring back from excursions when you were a child. A side who’s not biting your soft, delicate edges minute by minute every time you glance her way.

‘You were so mean to me, though...’ 

She’s thoroughly writing and your eyes don’t stay too long on her, not bearing to see her ignore you the way she does.

‘Why are you so hard on them? It’s hot and it’s none of their fault.’ You approach her sword, admiring it, not daring touching the murder weapon.

‘If a soldier can not endure the desert, how can he endure the war?’ She asks you, voice strained, disinterested.

When you don’t answer she spits:

‘Men are the weakest.’

‘I’m a woman and I’m the only one who fell off her horse.’ You dumbly try to counter attack but you’ve learned countless times that you can’t over power Yoonji.

‘You’re not a soldier are you?’ She stops writing, still not looking at you, who’s now standing in front of her sitting form, pissed once again. 

‘Where I’m from, the best soldiers are the women. So seeing those poor piss babies crying because of the fucking sun is not surprising.’

‘I’m a piss baby too then?’

She doesn’t answer but the smirk marring her face screams ‘you already know the answer.’

‘What’s wrong Yoonji? You haven’t looked me in the eye since we entered this damned desert.’ To the point, you don’t want to play around anymore.

Her shoulders slump and she stands up, starting to blow on a few candles, her way to tell you she’s ready to go to bed.

‘Tell me what the matter is and I’ll fix it.’ You sound pathetic and you feel just the same. Your heart starts beating faster and faster at the realization that she’s not gonna explain herself. Explain to you why she’s been the way she’s been.

‘Princess, you’re so damn noisy.’ She grits, face crunching as if in pain at the sound of your wavering voice. You’re such a cry baby.

‘You didn’t do anything wrong so please….Be quiet.’

‘Well then, why are you ignoring me!’ Your voice is louder than expected and you remember the camp is supposed to be asleep.

‘You haven’t touched me in so long... I miss you.’ You whisper, voice coated with sorrowful honey.

You try getting closer but she retracts, stepping away from you. Your throat constricts at the sight and your stomach drops. You don’t give your eyes the time to water before propelling back to the exit, mind swarming to memories of her smile and her open arms, feet working faster than your brain, trying to bandage what’s left of your ego. You get it, the general doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore. You’re not going to force her to talk to you, if she deems you unworthy of an explanation then be it. Your hand comes to open the heavy garment of the tent when two strong arms circle your waist. You gasp because this time you really weren’t expecting this sudden contact.

‘Where are you going?’ Soft. Poised. Tired. Yoonji sighs in the swell of your neck. 

You wonder at first if you imagined it or if the soft cushions coming in contact with your skin under your ear really are her lips, that you’ve missed so much. But when your wind pipe is blocked by a sob that your ego doesn’t want to let out, she definitely kisses your neck and there is no wondering anymore. Your hand leaves the tent, your stance is rigid, body fixed in ice. Her touch, you were just craving, feels so foreign, you have trouble processing it. Your eyes resemble oceans flooding the valley of your breasts and you hear her sighing for the umpteenth time tonight.

‘Don’t cry, please.’

‘I’ll cry if I want to. You’re being an asshole.’ You whimper, tasting the saltiness of your own tears.

‘Yeah?’ 

‘Definitely.’

‘I didn’t mean to make you cry, alright? I never mean to.’

‘But you did.’ You push her away from you, an adorable pout coming to life on your face.

‘I apologise.’ She bows, slightly inclining her head, and you know her enough to know she’s not taking a piss or being sarcastic.

‘Apology accepted.’ You mumble, drying your tears. 

She’s staring at you for a long time and in other circumstances you’d find it endearing and probably giggle and hug her but the way she’s looking at you right now is gut wrenching. You see it in her eyes. The fear. It’s strange because you know Min Yoonji isn’t scared of anything.  
Her eyes linger on your lips and your blushing cheeks.

‘What’s the matt-’

She kisses you. She just kisses you with all she has to offer. One of her hand comes to your waist and the other cradles your cheek tenderly. You’re surprised, eyes wide open while hers are closed in concentration. You circle her with your inviting arms, finally warming up to her cold touch. You’ve missed her oh so deeply, you need to relearn the feel of her fingertips and the taste of her tongue.  
She suckle on your muscle and you moan involuntarily. The both of you freeze when you hear a horse make sudden noises in the night. You wait like this, lips locking and arms intertwining, only three candles left to illuminate you. Tonight, not even the moon will know what you did, and somehow the thought is comforting, warming up the hole in your chest. Knowing that you don’t have to share this with anyone, but her.  
Out of breath, her lips leave yours but she still needs to feel the warmth of your skin so they fly to your neck sucking auburn butterflies where she can feel your heart beating on your skin.  
You’re so lost in her touch you barely realize you’re laying down where her sleeping space was set. She hiked up your long dress around your belly and you spread your legs so that she could find shelter in between them. Your hands travel to the buttons of her shirt and you free her breasts from the military bra she was wearing underneath. Your hand messes up her shortly cut hair and you hear her whispering sweet nothings with the softest, beckoning voice she’s ever used with you.  
You moan her name when you feel her on the inside of your thighs, hand getting closer to your center. She smiles up at you when she sees you’re not wearing any panties because of course her girl would do something like that.  
She kisses the inside of your thigh and the proximity of her face to your womanhood makes you close your legs in a heartbeat. Your mind shuts down and you get self conscious. Although you indeed cleaned up a bit before coming over to see her, you haven’t taken a proper shower in days, the water supply in the desert is minimal, having to share the reserve with everyone. Survival over hygiene. Yeah.

She can see you shaking your head no. The fear in your eyes makes her retract from your center, petting your hair back in place around your shoulders. Your chests are still heaving, not down yet from your passion’s tumult. There is no awkwardness lingering in the atmosphere, she just understands you, no words needed.  
Again she kisses you with even more intent than before and you can hear the song that played when you made love for the first time.  
She lies next to you and rather than hold, you grip hands, like she’s your anchor. Solid and safe.

Tonight the stars in her eyes are hiding and you wonder what the cause is.

‘Is this the last time?’ You ask.

‘What do you mean?’ Yoonji clears her throat an uncomfortable ball made it’s home inside her trachea. You’re not sure yourself of what you’re trying to say but you try anyway.

‘It feels like a goodbye.’ You just whisper.

You’ve always been so perceptive and Yoonji thinks she’s gonna miss your intuitive mind… She doesn’t answer you though, just grabbing your other hand to kiss it too.

‘Princess, sleep. We have a long day tomorrow.’

..........................................

 

The wind is blowing in your face. The scarf you wrapped around your mouth is of no use anymore. Namjoon let you know earlier how anxious he was about facing a sand storm and you hoped from the bottom of your heart that his fears were baseless. But with those blows throwing even your horse off balance, it’s complicated to look at things from the bright side, considering there is no bright side. Just sand, wind and even more sand.  
Despite this wind, bad omen in the desert, soldiers seem revitalized. Compared to yesterday, they aren’t as breathless and their movements aren’t trembling. This night of sleep has been life saving.  
Yoonji is at the beginning of the caravan. You didn’t talk to her since last night, or rather she didn’t talk to you. You left her tent early in the morning, before anyone could wake up. 

Yoonji is not someone easy to read, but after two years spent at the castle with her you thought you at least could say confidently that you know her. Nevertheless, her behavior is plain strange. Yesterday you just hugged before going to bed. She fell asleep first. Commanding an army is tiring. You were left wondering in the night, about her, your relationship and what was going on in her head.

You sigh, biting your lip out of frustration. You wonder if her coldness towards you has something to do with the fact that Min Yoonji wants to be respected and people learning she’s secretly been in the Princess of Akillon’s bed sheets might get her the total contrary of respect from them.

What if someone caught you? Would you be able to bear the badmouthing and the snickers of the court? And what about the King? What would he say? Maybe Yoonji has been thinking about those things and you don’t blame her for wanting to distance herself from you. It’s in both your advantages. Is it really? You don’t want to stay away from her.

You shake your head, wind making you close your eyes due to the sand flying around and forcing you to think. Even if she’s as fearless as the people say, would she still fear backlash from the court and your parents? Wouldn’t you?

You hear horses around you neigh, yours suddenly joining in the agitation. The wind still hasn’t come down, and it’s as if it had a mind of it’s own, moving around bodies like waves. You’re propulsed to the ground, off of your horse that’s still baring as if he saw something. Namjoon grabs your horse’s reins with an experienced hand, keeping it from escaping your sights.

‘Princess?!’

‘I’m okay! Why are the horses so… Upset?’

An infantry in the back screams. The sound is horrifying. More soldiers move around. You’ve seen that formation during training. Well you weren’t practicing yourself but you’ve watched soldiers and right now they’re set in a defense formation. 

Are you under attack?

A foot soldier receives an arrow, a few inches from you, right in the jugular, strategic place since the only place unprotected by the armor nor the helmet. You watch the wounded man quiver and choke on his own blood.  
You hear Namjoon’s voice yell at you to get on your horse but all your attention is focused on the man convulsing on the ground in front of you, blood coming out of his throat like the wine flooding out of the barrels when the villagers party in Akillon.

Your eyes go to the arrow stuck inside the flesh and suddenly your heart skips a bit. Namjoon is behind you on his horse and yells at the top of his lungs for you to grab his hand. You’re like paralysed, as if all the safety instructions you’ve been given by the royal guard went up in smoke. Mind blank, you feel your arm being yanked on and lift your eyes to encounter Namjoon. You see the panick in his gaze and he, who’s always cool, calm and collected, looks on the verge of losing it. He jerks on your arm again, sword brandished in his other hand and it’s when you see them that you understand the extent of the emergency. At the third harsh yank that you feel, you look up at Namjoon and grab his wrist to jump at the same time he uses his strength to lift you on stallion. You’re sitting behind him on his red horse and what you couldn’t see on top of your 5’5 hits your vision like the sand earlier.

Men… Men? They look like dark silhouettes, emerging from the dust, cloaks around their forms, nothing else of them is visible. They’re so much taller and bigger than the average 5’8 men of the Kingdom you’re used to. They look taller than 2 feet and they’re attacking your caravan. The enemy is pretty confident they’ll win this surprise and frankly coward attack. Your men are barely twenty and their army seems to double, even triple yours.

In the confusion and chaos you try to catch even just a glimpse of Yoonji but you feel something grab your ankle. A scream of terror escape your lips and Namjoon is faster than the air.  
The dark shape who had your thin ankle in his rough hand has his head now on the floor, detached from the rest of his body.

‘Oh dear God!’ You whisper disgusted.

‘Hold tight Y/N!’ You obey and encircle his waist with your arms. 

‘Where is Yoonji?!’ You ask him well aware that that’s the least of his concern right about now, his priority being to protect you. To make sure he keeps you alive, no matter what.  
You’ve never been at the center of a battleground. Never has your person been targeted directly either. This journey is one of the rare times when you left the Kingdom, making you regret imploring your father to accompany Yoonji on her mission.

Namjoon’s horse is running towards the front of the caravan where the higher ranking soldiers are supposed to be fighting. The dark silhouettes are moving like water, it’s really hard to keep your eyes on them they’re so fast despite their imposing frames.  
Your men are slowly falling like flies and your eyes close, biting your shaky bottom lip. You have to pull yourself together, and help Namjoon, in anyway you can, you’ll try.  
Namjoon’s horse is targeted which makes it harder for the poor animal to run out of the battle field. It takes a few arrows in the thighs at first and then it’s sides. 

‘Shit.’ you hear him curse, it’s the first time you see your friend under real operating conditions and you know it’s selfish of you to expect him to be composed but seeing him so afraid makes you even more terrified yourself.

‘Yoonji!’ You yell in the void. Ignoring in which way turning your head. She’s strong, you saw her fight, she can fight against men as well as women. You trust that she’ll save you and her soldiers. You’ve always trusted her with your whole being.

‘Yoonji!’ Your eyes look for her in the crowd of bodies. Never going on to the dead ones. She’s not among them. Impossible. Min Yoonji couldn’t be defeated in a few minutes.  
You look for her dark horse in the sand storm. Nowhere to be found.

Namjoon’s mustang is now on the ground, making him brandish his sword in a threatening manner in front of him. He pushes you behind him, serving of human shield in between the mysterious assaillants and the future of Akillon. Your heart pounds wildly against your chest. On ground they dominate you. Namjoon who’s 6’2 seems dwarfed next to them.  
Never does his stance falter, however. He’s not even shaking contrary to you, his courage intact even when one of them comes closer engaging in a sword fight with him. You don’t have a weapon, you feel utterly useless.  
You look to the ground, next to you lays one of your soldiers, his eyes are still open and his fingers are wrapped tightly around his choice weapon, a heavy ‘dagger’. You run towards it, hearing Namjoon protest and scream at you to stay close to him. You run as fast as you can to catch it but trip on your dress, or so you thought: an enemy caught the bottom of it and you find yourself face first in the sand. You cough and feel him grab your leg forcefully.  
Screaming is your last salvation.

‘Namjoon!’ 

Not being able to see his face is the scariest. They’re faceless, massive, killing machines. What young damsel in distress, that’s never seen blood other than her own, wouldn’t freak out?  
You try to escape the grip he has on both of your legs now turning around hastily, throat sandy and mouth dry, fear infiltrating your veins.

‘Nam...Joon!’ It’s your fault, you were just trying to be useful, but in such chaos…

‘Yoonji!’ Your eyes are fully watering, pulse beating frantically. Where on Earth is she? You scream out of pure terror when you feel yourself being lift up in the air, from where you realise you that almost all your army has been slaughtered.

‘Namjoon! Behind you!’ The white haired man turns around and it’s as if they took your life.  
Sharp iron fends his back that you’re facing. He heavily falls on his knees, in a muffled sound. You scream so loud you swear your throat’s tearing from the inside.

Your fists fly to the back of the thing holding you. Beating against flesh that feels like rock to your knuckles. Everyone is dead. You’re sure of it.  
You don’t see any soldier standing anymore, the enemies are standing around you, so calm, weapons to their sides. They’re done, and it sickens you how they could act like they didn’t just murdered human beings.

‘Namjoon!’ You’re hurt, you just lost your best friend and you have no idea where the other one is. You refuse to accept the fact that she might be laying there in between the heaps of bodies.  
But when your hope has been totally decimated you see the horse. In it’s frightening and impressive beauty, walking towards you.  
‘Yoonji, help me!’ You’re crying, relieved to see her. The Champion in all her splendor. You heard from soldiers that she killed a dragon once, and even if you don’t believe in such things, right now you really hope it sure was true.

Her sword is kept in it’s sheath and she calmly gets closer to the men who have you captive.  
You frown, her demeanor is… The contrary of what it should be. Shoulders relaxed, her horse’s pace is slow. She gets in front of you and one of the cloaked forms walks up towards her, bloody sword in hand.

‘Min Yoonji...’ His voice is a mixture of admiration and something else you don’t have the mind to decipher right now.

‘We finally meet.’ He spits.

Her horse is agitated but she yanks on the reins. Disgust painted all over her face.

‘I did my part. It’s on you now.’ She states, tone low.

‘What?’ Your voice catches in your throat but she doesn’t even glance your way.

‘What the hell Yoonji?!’ Tone wavering, your tears of sadness mix with those of anger. The man holding you puts his dirty hand over your mouth.

‘Make sure what I requested is honored.’

The man who seems like the chief, cloak finally let loose, head revealed, blue hair and shiny gold on his ears bows in a way that seems more sarcastic than respectful.

‘It will be.’ Is the last thing you’re allowed to hear before you’re knocked out cold.


End file.
